


Up to no good

by FireWithFire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:05:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireWithFire/pseuds/FireWithFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Objects in morror may be hornier that they appear.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up to no good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ateverbti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ateverbti/gifts).



> There's even less plot in this one, but there's some fluffy porn to make up for it.

“Where have you been, nephew?”

 

“I had to go to the theater.”

 

“Did they finally make it mandatory?”

 

“Very funny.”

 

“You’re just grumpy. It’s a normal reaction when a commoner gets hit in the face with good art.”

 

“It was a high school play.”

 

“Was Stiles in it?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I see. Is Stiles coming over?”

 

“Yeah. Where are the kids, did you finally murder them and saved us a lifetime of putting up with them?”

 

“I let them go to a party. And now, I’ll make myself scarce.”

 

“Why would you even.”

 

“Oh, I have some business to attend. Somewhere else. Not here. It should take me a couple of hours. I’ll be back, promise, you know I _always_ come back, nephew. Bye!”

 

*

 

“Where is everyone?”, Stiles asked, closing the door behind him.

 

“Gone,” Derek said, popping his head out of the kitchen. Something smelled delicious from in there and Stiles quickly took off his jacket to sneak a peek.

 

“Whatcha doin’ there, big guy?”, he asked, leaning close to Derek and putting his hands on those God damn it those pecs are rock hard does he, like, work out all the time or what.

 

“Um, this may kill the mood... But I ordered pizza...”, Derek said, looking down at his feet.

 

“Ooh, I love pizza. Are we watching something, too?”

 

“Yeah. I have a great war movie for us--”

 

“War? I don’t like war,” Stiles moaned. “Can we watch _Green Lantern_? It was so comically horrible!”

 

“Well, I don’t like contemporary plays with no plot and plenty of quotes detached from one another, but you don’t see me whining about it.”

 

Stiles just raised one eyebrow.

 

“Okay, you _haven’t_ seen me whine about it, until now.”

 

“Fine, we’ll watch the war movie. But lift your shirt, I need to get something out of it, too.”

 

Derek obeyed, laughing, but the laugh quickly turned into a surprised moan when Stiles dropped on his knees and licked alpha’s stomach.

 

“Get up!”

 

“In a minute,” Stiles purred, dragging his tongue just a bit over Derek’s belt. “Me and your abs need a moment. We’ve been thinking about each other the whole day, or at least I know I have,” he explained and left another wet trail on werewolf’s skin.

 

That was too much. Derek grabbed him by the arms and lifted up in one swift motion. Then, he pinned him to the door-frame and kissed greedily, pressing his lips hard against Stiles’, who did all he could do now - scratched Derek’s back, moaned and enjoyed.

 

“So, about that movie,” Stiles panted when Derek broke the kiss for a moment.

 

“Who cares about the movie, bang bang blood dust and they save the day,” Derek said hoarsely and grabbed Stiles’ butt. “We can watch it later. I now have something more... urgent on my hands,” he murmured and bit Stiles’ ear.

 

“Are you sure? You seemed to really want to see this one. Derek, my fluffy wolf you,” he said with emphasis, knowing how Derek despised that nickname, “Don’t let your basic instincts rule over you. Come on, grab the pizzas and I’ll start the DVD.”

 

Derek growled and swooped back into the kitchen, grabbed the boxes and a bottle of coke and came into the living room just in time to see Stiles bending over to put the disc on the tray. He froze, scared to move, as every twitch could make the teenager stand up and ruin the perfectly good view. He laid the boxes and the bottle on the couch, quietly, and leapt ahead and slapped Stiles’ butt.

 

“Finally, man, come on, I put the movie in like two minutes ago, Wolfy McStarepants,” the teenaged laughed, turning around and kissing alpha softly. “You should’ve taken a picture instead of gaping at me.”

 

“Who told you I haven’t taken one? Without all the clothes in the way. I have it on my phone,” he teased, taking out his smartphone and waving it.

 

Stiles snatched it out of his hands and ran to the other side of the room, checking Derek’s gallery. And there it was, or rather - there they were. He found several pictures of his own butt, butt naked.

 

“Why would you-- How did you-- When did you--”, he rambled, blushing uncontrollably.

 

“What? I like them, they turn me on when you’re not around,” Derek muttered, walking up to him, taking the phone out of his hands and kissing his neck.

 

“Let’s say I believe you, perv,” Stiles laughed. “Now, let’s go and watch the shooting in the sand for a hundred and eight minutes and get me some pizza before I faint, damn it!”

 

Derek had barely sat down when Stiles threw himself on the couch and snuggled his face to Derek’s thighs, getting him instantly hard and almost out of his mind. He took a deep breath and handed Stiles a slice of double pepperoni extra olives pizza. He watched him chew, swallow, and gazed at his eyes, and how the light from the TV brought out all their colors, one at the time. And as soon as he managed to stop staring and start actually following the plot, he felt Stiles’ hand on his cheek.

 

“I love your stubble, it’s so nice, not exactly soft, but not too scratchy... I love how it feels against my skin. I’m afraid I’d have to withhold sex if you ever shave clean again.”

 

Derek mumbled something in response, and cleared his throat.

 

“Shush, watch. Plus, your hands are all greasy and smell like pizza,” he said, and he really meant that to come out all stern and serious, but his voice just, kind of on its own, like it was entitled to make independent managerial decisions now, went soft and husky.

 

“Do you mean that I smell delicious?”

 

“You always do, stupid. Now you smell like pizza, too. Now zip it and watch the nice men shoot each other in the face,” Derek whispered, as if they were actually in the cinema, and stole a quick, gentle kiss before he turned Stiles’ head and made him face the TV. Partly so that he would catch up with the movie, partly because his jeans had suddenly became a size or two too tight in some areas and he didn’t want to be... too obvious. But Stiles seemed not to care about all that.

 

In fact, a couple minutes later he turned his head back, having this impish smile. He paused the movie and made a dash to the kitchen. When he came back, he laid on Derek’s legs again, lifted Derek’s shirt and started kissing his stomach. Alpha should’ve told him to watch the movie, again, just to make a point, but it was just too pleasant, making him stop would probably classify as a mortal sin and he would get a cauldron in hell with his name on a golden plaque. Then, out of nowhere, he felt something freezing cold on his skin, and looked down to see Stiles drawing lines and circles on him with an ice cube he held in his teeth.

 

“Where did you--”, he said, but the rest of his words died in a moan that escaped his throat, because Stiles pulled away his pants and boxers and touched his hot skin under them with the cube. The chill ran through his body, causing shivers race down his spine.

 

And that’s precisely when Stiles dropped the cube, which slipped from between his teeth. Derek screamed in surprise and bent back. He jumped up, almost pushing Stiles off the couch.

 

“What the hell, Stiles!”, he groaned, still feeling the ice roaming around his boxers, in regions you would never want to have iced.

 

Stiles could’ve answered, or at least apologised, if he wasn’t rolling around on the couch, fighting for breath. He laughed so hard Derek could see tears running down his face.

 

“Oh, very funny,” Derek growled, sitting back and dragging giggling Stiles back on his thighs.

 

“I’m sorry, but it was, it was hilarious,” Stiles said, chuckling a little. “Don’t be mad at me, puppywolf, I’m sorry!”

 

“I’m not mad. A little cold, maybe,” Derek grunted, unpausing the movie and doing his best not to smile, because after all, the whole situation was a bit funny.

 

*

 

The movie had ended, and the ending was sad. Sad and depressing, and they would know that if they hadn’t started making out half an hour earlier.

 

“It’s done,” Derek said, pulling away. “And now, thanks to your innate inability to use napkins the way they were designed, I smell like pizza, too. I need a shower.”

 

“Wanna make it a sizzling hot shower?”

 

“What? How?”

 

“You take a shower, you put a hot, naked alpha in it, you throw in his hot, naked boyfriend and there you go. That one stirs itself, plus the recipe’s very easy,” Stiles purred, licking Derek’s neck and biting his ear. Derek moaned as Stiles’ hand brushed against him, unbuttoning his jeans.

 

To that, there was only one response. Stiles shifted his position, wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and his legs around his waist, sure that Derek would be able to withstand his weight. After all, something like two hours ago he just pulled Stiles up like a plushie. A little higher now, he looked Derek in the eye and saw that cute spark in it, the spark that only happened when alpha was looking at him and was horny, horny as hell. An oh, Stiles could feel that Derek was up for the job that evening, pun intended.

 

“Hello there, mister,” Stiles said playfully, tilting his head to the side so Derek could have better access to his collarbone. But Derek just stood up and stumbled to the bathroom. Good thing he still had his belt on. “We’re in a hurry, I see?“

 

“You have no idea,” he panted, seating the teenager on the washing machine and locking the door behind them. He could sense Stiles’ hearbeat speed up, and his body warming.

 

His werewolf senses went nuts. He turned around and bit on Stiles’ shirt, breaking threads, and ripped it down the front.

 

“Whoa, that was intense,” Stiles laughed. “Good I didn’t like that shirt anyway.”

 

Derek turned on the shower and dragged his boyfriend under it. They kissed, hot water pouring down their faces. Alpha poured a lot of soap on his hand and started washing both of them. Stiles barely had time to enjoy being bathed by the smoking hot werewolf, or the touch of his hands all over him, because the shower ended in an eyeblink. Derek turned the water off and reached for towels.

 

“What, we’re done?”, Stiles whimpered, taking one and drying himself.

 

“Yup. What I want to do to you can’t be done safely while we’re standing here. I just needed you to smell like you, not pepperoni and jalapenos,” Derek growled, leaning forward. He grabbed Stiles by the hair - thank God he finally let them grow longer! - and tilted the teenager’s head back, and licked his neck.

 

How did they ever get to the bedroom will forever remain a mystery. Stiles could only remember that they kissed all the way, he could remember Derek’s stubble against his skin, Derek’s lips pressing on his, their tongues doing-- stuff. Derek’s hands, wandering over his body wherever alpha could reach. When the werewolf finally pushed him on the bed, he opened his eyes and tried not to look for broken things they could’ve damaged on the way.

 

Derek was standing above him, checking him out head to toes, with this hungry, greedy look on his face, before he got on his knees and spread Stiles’ thighs. He leaned down and bit the teenager’s leg, so close to the hip, on the inside, where the skin is so delicate, softly at first, getting carried away just enough to make it hot, getting Stiles painfully horny. The feeling of Derek’s breath, his presence so close to him drove him purely insane. He couldn’t make a single word form to tell alpha what he wanted. But then, Derek stopped, and just... looked.

 

“What-- What are you-- doing down there, wolfy?”, he finally panted, words still cut a bit short, voice hoarse.

 

“Trying to remember the notes to ‘London Bridge is falling down’. What comes after wood and clay?”, Derek said, grinning, proud as ever of his little joke.

 

“Speaking of _wood_... Derek, for the sake of--”, Stiles muttered, again overwhelmed by the hot breath and smoking hot body he felt and saw down there.

 

“Ah, right. Now I remember,” Derek said and bent down.

 

Stiles lost his breath, his body arched when alpha took him in his mouth and-- And oh my God. His tongue, his tongue did wonders. He started slow, gently kissing and licking him. Then he proceeded to suck, tease him with his tongue, before he started much more radical moves, which caused Stiles to clench his fists on the sheets, bite his lip, pant like crazy. Caused him to whimper and tremble, until he finally mustered up the power and reached down. He couldn’t, however, make a single word, so he just grabbed Derek’s hair and pulled his head up.

 

“Stop,” he said, finally relearning how to breathe properly. “I don’t want it over yet. You said you had something in store for me,” he purred as Derek pulled up, kissing his way through Stiles’ stomach and chest to his lips.

 

“Oh, I do. I want you so bad you can’t imagine,” Derek whispered, breathing heavily. He put his hand under Stiles’ back and flipped him onto his stomach.

 

“I see what you mean,” Stiles murmured, looking over his shoulder and lifting his hips a little. “Had no idea you’re that horny, you big bad alpha.”

 

“Stiles, honey, you have simply no idea how hot you are, what you’re doing to me,” Derek said, dragging his nails across Stiles’ sides.

 

Derek reached under the bed for the bottle of lube and poured some on his fingers, making a huge mess around him. Feeling alpha’s fingers slipping in him, Stiles bit down on the sheet so as not to moan loudly just yet. He wanted this so bad he hadn’t even realised it, so when Derek entered him, he could not withhold. A groan he let out was barely human, and it turned alpha on even more. He went on, rough, hard, fast. He smelled Stiles’ skin, sweat. He just couldn’t help himself, he had to speed up, and Stiles making all those sounds of pleasure just winded him up more, so he reached out and put his hand on Stiles’ head. He ruffled his hair, and clenched his fist on them. He pulled Stiles up and kissed him furiously. He reached down with his other hand and started stroking Stiles, making him groan and whimper even more. After a minute, maybe a bit more, Stiles started wiggling, panting faster, moaning. And with a sudden shake, he came, all over the sheet and Derek’s hand, leaning back and resting his head on Derek’s shoulder. And when Stiles’ lips touched alpha’s ear, warm breath blew against his cheek, his own name was softly whispered, he couldn’t hold a second more, he came, too, with a grunt, and holding his breath.

 

Stiles took that opportunity to strike. He quickly turned around (well, as quick as the setting allowed him to) and threw Derek to his back. Then, before alpha could get the grasp of reality, Stiles jumped on him and hugged him really close.

 

“What are you doing?”, Derek asked, baffled at least a little.

 

“Snuggling.”

 

“Why so... intensely?”

 

“So you won’t have the chance to run do your stuff.”

 

“I won’t run, but I would like the chance to breathe, anytime soon?”

 

Stiles loosened his grip a little, felt Derek shift a bit under him.

 

“You know I now have to wash the sheets,” Derek said. He sounded tired, but satisfied. “Could you help me, while we’re at it? Stiles?”

 

But Stiles, apparently, was asleep. Or acting very well, much better than he had a chance to in that play earlier. Derek laughed quietly and kissed his forehead. The cleaning could wait, and, well, it had to.


End file.
